Subversion
by TangledAria
Summary: It's only when he's made to choose that he can't decide. Slash, SiriusSeverus.


**Disclaimer**: The universe of Harry Potter and all its characters belong to J.K. Rowling, Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic and others. Not mine.   
**Rating**: R   
**Summary**: It's only when he's made to choose that he can't decide. Slash, Sirius/Severus. 

  
  
**Subversion**   
by: TangledAria   
(jentangaria@hotmail.com) 

  


"_Or if no thing but death will serve thy turn,  
Still thirsting for subversion of my state,  
Do what thou canst, raze, massacre, and burn,  
Let the world see the utmost of thy hate_;"  
-Michael Drayton, 'Idea' 

  
He used to worship the moon. He would count the days until the full moon, would revel in the time spent in between. He would mark the dates on a calendar, he knew the exact moments of wax and wane. 

But now, now. Oh, how he hates the moon. 

"You're a fool, Black," the man beneath him hisses, sitting up to settle on his elbows. "He's a fool for leaving." 

But he can't hear him. There's only the moonlight, filtering in through the dirty window, silver and bright on the other man's skin, caught in the highlights of his black hair like a crown. 

  


__________

  
The cleaning spells aren't enough. He doesn't care how perfect they're supposed to be. He can still smell him, lingering on his skin like a curse. 

He sneaks into the prefect's bathroom in the middle of the night, stumbling around in the dark; he refuses to part the drapes and let the moonlight in. 

He puts up enough wards to stop Voldemort himself, and climbs into the bathtub. 

The water is hot enough to scald, but when the tiny blisters start to rise on his skin, he doesn't notice. 

With a sigh, he sinks beneath the surface. 

  


__________

  
He wakes one morning with his arm flung across Snape's bare hips and thinks, '_This has gone on long enough_.' 

  


__________

  
He's beginning to hate the dog. Everytime he shifts, everytime his bones fold and his muscles ripple, he's reminded of _him_. Of barking and laughing and running under the moon with a werewolf nipping at his heels. 

But when the school year starts and Dumbledore looks at him with those kindly eyes and says softly "Please", how can he refuse? 

"No one would object to a dog wandering around, and I daresay young Harry would enjoy the company." 

"Where am I going to stay at night?" Sirius protests. 

"Sleep in Gryffindor Tower," the Headmaster says with a dismissive wave. "You could even wander around Hogsmeade, if you wished." 

Sirius nods, scratching absently at an old scar on his arm. 

"If neither of those places suits you, you could always stay in the dungeons. With Severus." 

Sirius looks up, the colour draining from his face. 

  


__________

  
In the Great Hall, he lies at Harry's feet, head resting on his muddy paws. He can hear the click of marble chess pieces as Harry and Ron play their game. His canine nose can smell something rotten, a piece of magical food from the first day feast kicked under a table somewhere. 

The hall is filled with the voices of other students, a din even his sensitive ears can't reason. 

Hermione is sitting next to Harry, her legs swinging idly, back and forth. Occasionally, she slips a hand under the table and pats his head gently. He wonders if she would feed him scraps of food, given the chance. 

Suddenly, the heavy doors of the castle are thrown open with enough force to rattle the chess set above his head. The hall goes silent. He starts to lift his head from his paws, head cocked to the side, but Hermione's hand slips under the table once again, pushing his head down. "Stay there," he hears her whisper. 

"Well, well, well," a cold, familiar voice says. "Isn't this nice, Harry Potter and all his friends, gathered together. No doubt discussing his bravery and true heart." 

Lucius Malfoy. And his godson says nothing, but in Sirius's mind's eye, he can see him, glaring at the older man all the while. 

"Shame to hear about your friend, Lupin, was it?" 

And at that, he pushes his head past Hermione's hand, lifting his nose and growling at the blond-haired man. In the greys of the dog's vision, Lucius Malfoy looks less threatening than he should, but what surprises Sirius most is Snape's thin figure standing next to him. 

Even if he had been blind, he would still have been able to see the look of derision that curls on Malfoy's lip. "Look at this. Is this your new familiar, Potter? He's unclean and smells absolutely dreadful; I suppose he must be." 

He's contemplating the mess he's going to make (How much blood does Malfoy have in him? Will it splatter across the floor, over the children?), when Snape breaks the tension with a discreet cough. 

Malfoy's eyes lose their intense focus and he leans back, away from the confrontation. "Ah yes, of course, Severus. We have an appointment with the Headmaster, do we not?" He turns away, cloak swirling. "Come along Severus," he says, as if calling a dog to heel. 

The growl rumbles low in Sirius's throat. 

  


__________

  
He can see the sparkle of the wards, the magic that's caught in the air and spun like a web. He had learnt long ago not to say anything, that it only made things worse. So he walks in the door, just like any other time, into the cold, cramped room that stinks of magic gone awry. He sits in the chair next to the bed and reaches out to take one of the pale, limp hands in his own. A exhale of breath, somewhere between a sob and a sigh. 

"Remus," he says. Careful. Quiet. "Remus, I need you to wake up." He starts to run his thumb over the back of the man's hand, feeling the long, thin bones rising up like driftwood from the sea. He smiles. "I have a question to ask, old friend." 

  


__________

  
The next month, he howls at the moon. Broken, empty screams that scrape his throat raw. 

This moon, the same moon. It's starting to become a sad little routine. It's starting to become ridiculous. 

He falls to his knees, burying his fingers in the soft earth, throwing his head back to scream harder, louder than before. 

He never notices the thin figure behind the window of the Astronomy Tower, framed by the dull light. Instead he throws clumps of dirt over his shoulder, screaming at the moon. 

When Dumbledore comes to lead him back inside, he realises he's lost his voice. 

  


__________

  
"I suppose you think this is funny," Snape says, his face pale with rage. He reaches out and grabs the front of Sirius's robes, pulling him close. "Do you know how many people have seen you? Howling at the moon like some lovesick werewolf?" 

He pushes Snape away, hard. "Don't ever say that word again," he spits out, rage creeping like ice in his veins. 

"What? 'Werewolf'?" Snape closes the distance between them, black eyes swirling. "He's dead, Black. Get used to it." 

"You son of a-" He launches himself at the other man, forgetting his wand, forgetting he's a wizard; Azkaban has broken him and he still hasn't found all the pieces. 

There's a fleeting flash of surprise in Snape's dark eyes before they both fall in a tangle of limbs to the floor. Snape's head makes a dull thud against the flagstone and Sirius feels a thrill of pleasure run through him at the sound. His breath hisses through his clenched teeth, and he reaches up, fingers tangling in Snape's hair. 

At his touch, Snape's eyes widen and his hands reach to wrap around Sirius's throat. Black leans in to it, letting the feel of those long cold hands take away all conscious thought. The fingers stretch and tighten, thin, sharp fingers, digging into his flesh. 

Sirius's fingers grip that silken black hair, lifting the other man's head off the floor before slamming it back down. 

A wolfish grin stretches across his face at the sight of Snape's gaze sliding out of focus. "Not so full of yourself now," he hisses in a hot whisper against the other man's ear. He throws a leg over his stomach, straddling the unresisting form. "No one's scared of you, Snape," he whispers. 

Snape smiles, a grimace of pain that reveals blood-stained teeth. "You're wrong Black." And he laughs then, a sound edged with enough hysteria that Sirius shifts his weight back to his knees, lifting himself off the other man. "Everyone's scared of me. Everyone but you." 

  
  


**finis**

  
02/25/03 

  



End file.
